Thus the Rainfall
by frigginapplepie
Summary: Yusuke contemplates. Set after the death of Genkai, before the final round of the Tournament.


Disclaimer: I own thee not.

A/N: Written for a challenge between me and fallenstar127, prompt number 011: Rain.

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It was raining, the day it happened; he could still imagine the entirety of it in his mind, perhaps to vividly, too realistically and frighteningly and gruesomely to be quite what happened, yet he knew it was. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he knew that it had actually occurred, and he couldn't bring himself to let it pass as history.

The little nagging voice in the back of his mind reminded him for what seemed to be the thousandth time that he couldn't wind back the clock. There was no way that he could bring his teacher, his mentor back from the dead. She was, in truth, the only person he had ever listened to with more than just his ears. All of what she said was taken in with his mind and heart, and his body and soul had reacted to it accordingly. Sure, he had taken orders from Koenma, but for what reasons, he never understood.

She was different. Genkai was someone that he could trust, someone that he could bring himself to see a reflection in. They were alike – the two of them – in the fact that at one point in time or another, they lived for fighting, for the brute force that could be exerted with a fist. There was dedication in everything that they did, and when it was important, it was done to the best of anyone's abilities.

And she was taken away from their world by someone who she had considered to be a friend.

With a crack of thunder rolling off toward a distant side of the island, and a heavier sheet of rain falling from the sky, he wondered if that was to be his fate as well. Would one of them – Kuwabara, or Kurama, or Hiei – turn on him in the end for something that they wanted more than a companion who had proved loyal?

Kuwabara didn't seem to be that type. Then again, he didn't exactly seem to be the sort of person that could whip out a can of whoop-ass with a sword composed solely of Sprit Energy and make whoever opposed him wish they were dead. There was still the chance, though, that something would click in his mind, and that he would find a reason to resort back to their old rivalry and last names used in spite.

There was something in Kurama's undying passivity and calm that was ultimately frightening. He had started out as an enemy, reluctant as it may have been on the redhead's part; what kept him from crossing fully to that side? There hadn't been signs of his disloyalty, but rather everything besides – but it could happen. There would always linger the side of the green eyed ally that was part of his past life: a thief, a heartless fox ready to pilfer its way through life.

Hiei was the one to be worried about, if any of the three were. He was always dark, always reclusive, always kept to himself, and that was that. There was a constant fear that he would turn his back on the rest – and it seemed that it was the three-eyed demon's goal to make the rest think that as often as he could. He didn't want to be trusted, didn't want to rely on others, yet had been forced to in a time of rough, and it had stuck with him.

The furthest parts of his mind kept telling him that he wasn't going to end up in Genkai's position. His life was different, things would turn out in another way and that would be the pivotal factor in swaying his future from being that of his mentor's.

He shook back the long, soaked locks of hair, features wiped of any trace of emotion. The rain slowly began to let up, and a crisp waft of air filled his lungs as a breeze pressed his damp clothing against his chilled skin. His legs threatened to give way beneath him, but he stood never the less, arms dangling at his sides as he wobbled where he was rooted to the ground for a prolonged moment.

His first step forward was shaky, uncertain even. But as he took another, and then another after that, the old habits seemed to become simple mantra, something that had been burned into his mind as repetition and part of daily life. He finally left the shadow of the cave looming behind him and entered the vast opening surrounded by trees, a trail leading through the enclosed space, rain arcing over it and seeming to leave a single line of dirt semi-dried.

And Yusuke realized with the sweeping of a cloud above his head what he had to do.


End file.
